


Hymn

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Michael's Heist, One-Sided Attraction, Porn With Plot, slight size kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before the big heist probably isn't the time for last minute confessions, especially considering tonight will probably be their last. It's not like Ray wanted it this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hymn

**Author's Note:**

> sorry, no Seven Nationed Army this week. have some R&R smut instead. if you have a request, i can be found [here](http://themadkingsendshismilk.tumblr.com/).

Sleep doesn’t come easy to Ray. Sometimes it just doesn’t. He doesn’t want to blame it on anxiety, but he can’t argue that it’s not. After all the time he’s spent with these assholes, Ray knows a suicide plan when he sees one. Arguably, most of their plans inevitably end horribly, but this one is planned with their deaths expected.

It doesn’t seem to come easy to Ryan tonight, either, as he’s not in bed when Ray rolls over. He must have left during one of Ray’s short lapse of rest. Ray has his own apartment but rarely does he occupy it. It’s there mainly as a place for him to store junk and hide out when things get a little too tense between the crew. He rooms between his friends instead, sleeping on couches and spare beds and not spare beds. It’s less of what he’s been offered and more of wherever he falls.

Ryan’s bed just happens to be the most comfortable. He doesn’t mind, no one really does. Ray is just sort of that cat that wanders in through open doors or windows and eats whatever food you offer and sleeps wherever he makes himself comfortable. It’s normal.

Ray doesn’t stay in the bed long after discovering Ryan’s absence, making the choice that he’d be better off finding out where the other has gone off to than trying to get some shut eye. Knowing Ryan, he’s probably up to something far better than trying to grasp at strings of eluding sleep. The wood floor is cold on his bare feet but the apartment itself is comfortably warm and pleasantly quiet.

He moves without sound, not purposely, but unnoticed all the same. Ryan is unaware of him until he speaks.

“Are you smoking?” Ray questions. Ryan stills his hands, thumb stalled on the thumbwheel and hand shielding the cigarette from non existent wind. He’s not startled by Ray, but there’s a moment of hesitation before he lowers his lighter and flicks his cigarette to the opposite side of his mouth with his tongue. He turns his head toward Ray a bit.

“No?” is the slow reply. Ray raises an eyebrow and Ryan adds on, “Not yet.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ray yawns, ignoring the habit that he doesn’t care much about. He scratches the back of his head tiredly but remains stood in the hallway without goal. Ryan lights his cigarette and inhales from it deeply. He shoves the silver lighter into his front pocket, adjusting himself in the movement.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Me either.” Ray doesn’t offer up anything more. He has nothing particular to discuss with Ryan and neither of them will speak of why sleep is hard to come by. They don’t need to. It’s at the front of both of their minds and talking about it doesn’t change anything. It’s Ryan that speaks again. “Wanna go for a ride?”

It makes Ray feel like a child whose parent has to drive them around the block in order to get them to go to sleep. He also knows Ryan’s insomnia is significantly worse than any sleeping problems Ray could inflict on himself. Ray agrees with a wordless nod.

Ryan gathers up his keys as he passes by the counter and Ray follows him and the cloud of smoke he puffs out of the apartment. The night air is humid to the touch and Ray doesn’t find a need for a jacket or shoes as they leave the apartment. He stands in contrast with Ryan who’s still fully dressed from the day before. Ray can take a guess and say Ryan had never planned on sleeping. It was pretty normal for Ryan to climb into bed fully dressed. He was a fucking weirdo.

Smoke gathers in the elevator, Ryan leaving ash in his path for someone else to clean up. It doesn’t bother Ray. He's used to the smell, he grew up in a bar, after all. The lift opens up directly into Ryan’s private garage. The money that the crew racks in is nothing to shake a stick at; granted they’re not doing it together. Things tend to go much worse when they try to work together.

“Watch your step,” Ryan notes absently, flicking his cigarette to the ground and rubbing it out under his boot. The garage itself is clean nearly to the point of being sterile and Ray finds it unnecessary to watch where he puts his feet. Ryan gestures to his motorcycle with a grin, a favorite in his arsenal of vehicles.

“So much for a nice drive,” Ray says but the humor is clear in his tired voice.

“I said ‘a ride’,” Ryan points out, mounting his bike and starting the engine with ease. The sound fills the room without echo. He knocks the kickstand up with the back of his heel, balancing himself neatly on his feet. Ryan motions to the back of his bike with a small head nod. There is no hesitance in Ray’s movements as he climbs into the death machine and immediately clings to Ryan’s warm back. The leather of his coat smell distinctly of leather with hints of smoke and Ryan.

It’s not only Ryan’s personal space that Ray encroaches on a regular basis. Unlike Gavin, who also has a habit of invading his friend’s personal bubbles, Ray is generally more welcomed to it; Ryan's personal bubble especially. He considers Ryan a close friend, of course, and while looking into Ray’s actions could uncover the idea that they could be more than that, these aren’t things Ray considers on his own.

That’s not to say that people don’t fall in love with the wrong idea. Even smart people. Especially the smart people.

All comments aside, it is a nice ride. Ryan drives like a maniac, that is unquestionable, speeding between cars and taking turns a little too sharp down allies a little too narrow, but it’s nothing Ray’s not used to. The wind that whips past it shielded almost entirely by Ryan’s body and the city buildings that rush by leave little for Ray to focus on. Over the rumble of the engine and the sound of wind, Ray can hear Ryan’s heart steadily thumping along. It’s as calm as Ray would assume it always is, Ryan being completely unbothered by everything including racing through a busy city in the dead of night without a helmet.

Ray isn’t particularly surprised when Ryan drives them onto the beach, hopping the sidewalk that surrounds the parking lot without a care and parking his bike in the sand. Ray hops off the back, his feet sinking into the cool sand upon contact. Ryan joins him. There’s a few homeless people hanging around, but they don’t bother anyone and Ryan and Ray don’t bother them. The ocean itself is largely inactive as well, small waves curling against the shore on occasion without sound and without force.

Ryan makes to light another cigarette and Ray looks at him out the corner of his eye. He waits until Ryan inhales to say anything.

“You really gonna make me say it?” Ray murmurs.

“Or you couldn’t?” Ryan suggests with a small shrug and an arched brow.

“Those are gonna kill you, man,” he says all the same. Ryan only laughs, though. Between the daily activity that they’re subjected to, an occasional cigarette is the least of his concerns. It’s a joke above all else. “Michael’s plan is going to kill us.”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. He knows this as well as Ray does. Sometimes it hard to tell what’s malicious intent and what’s just plain stupidity. Knowing Michael for as long as he had, Ray finds it a little hard to believe his friend would willingly put him in a position he couldn’t handle, but after the heist with Ryan, it doesn’t strike him as surprising either. Ryan makes a face like he’s considering something unfavorable. “We could leave.”

“Nah,” Ray says. “That’s a bitch move.” He hadn’t brought it up with the intention of changing it. They would go and they would fight and they would inevitably die in a blaze of glory. Truthfully, Ray isn’t entirely sure why he brought it up at all. He’s alright with it. Maybe he just wants to make sure Ryan knows it, too.

“Well,” Ryan states in a tone that immediately tips off anyone listening that a grand master plan is going to follow. This will be good. “We could confess our love for each other knowing this may be our last day and spend the rest of our precious hours in loving coitus.”

Ray laughs hard, leaning forward with his hands in his pockets. It’s real and rumbles from the back of his chest with harsh shakes. Ryan joins him in soft chuckles. Of course, it’s not meant to be hurtful. Not intentionally. Ray composes himself again, unable to keep the remains of a grin from his face. If asked, he would be unable to explain why he found it so funny.

Perhaps it was simply the way Ryan delivered it or perhaps it was the idea of anyone being secretly in love with him. Or the idea of it being Ryan.

Glancing at Ryan shuts down all humor of the situation, the aura around the man bitter and harsh. Ray watches him for a moment. He sees the firm clench of his jaw that signals his ground teeth and the way Ryan looks at the end of his smoldering cigarette with a somber look. It seems less funny now. Ryan glances at him sideways and it’s clear that it very much wasn’t a joke. Ray looks away.

“Was that you’re way of ‘confessing’ to me?” he asks and he tries to make it sound like a joke but he doesn’t manage it. Ryan flicks his cigarette into the sand already filthy from hundreds of beach goers.

“No,” Ryan murmurs. There's no relief. “It wasn’t supposed to be nearly as embarrassing as that was,” he admits. Ray doesn’t feel guilty about laughing. He doesn’t feel much of anything. He’d like to say he didn’t know but that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Between the jokes that weren’t quite jokes and the touches that weren’t all around friendly and the childish bullying that absolutely occurred more often than not.

“I can take it that you don’t feel the same,” Ryan says after a breathe of tranquility. No, Ray doesn’t. It doesn’t feel entirely right to just come out and say it like that, though. Ryan is his friend, a very good friend. If there was time to consider it, then Ray would have. A relationship wasn’t something he avoided fiercely but rather didn’t pursue actively. He simply didn’t feel a strong enough romantic pull to bother with it.

A relationship with Ryan didn’t sound bad.

“Didn’t think so,” Ryan speaks to Ray’s silence. He doesn’t need a verbal reply to figure that out. Ray didn’t exactly have one to give, anyways. What could he really say? If they had more time? That he needed time to think about it? That he couldn’t love Ryan overnight? They didn’t have time. Then again, they never did.

“Man, that second part, though,” Ray says and it’s Ryan’s turn to laugh. It’s a little forced and Ray doesn’t really blame him for that. He certainly doesn’t like to be teased but of course, Ray knows he can get away with it. Ryan glances at him with a smile that’s not quite friendly and Ray meets it.

“You’re serious?” Ryan comments but it comes out like a question he didn’t mean to ask. The line of his jaw firms when Ray’s expression opens up a bit and smirks.

“I mean, we’re going to die young-ish tomorrow, right?” Ray replies with a simple shrug. An ‘only if you want’ lies under it because he does know Ryan doesn’t like to be teased. If offering sex in lieu of a love he can’t return isn’t teasing than Ray doesn’t know what is. It’s a toss up as to whether Ryan is thinking about it or completely baffled by it.

Ray lets him work it out on his own.

“You have a point,” Ryan agrees. Ray likes to think that Ryan understands the situation and knows that it’s not entirely a consolation prize. It might be a little much to ask for. Ryan gestures for his bike again with one hand. “Time is limited.”

Ray climbs onto the back again, but it feels different this time. It’s only to be expected though, suddenly being fully aware of a close friend having feelings that were very much not for a friend. Even then, there is no sudden wave of feeling, there is only the sudden retrospect of little things. Honestly, Ryan didn’t have to wait until the last minute to clue Ray in on this. He knew Ray could be dense.

The ride back isn’t much different than the ride there; fast and dangerous. The difference being the slight increase of Ryan’s heart rate. Ray almost laughs. List of things that don’t make Ryan nervous: going ninety in a thirty zone, preparing to fight off the entire LSPD police force, and imminent death. Things that do make Ryan nervous: Ray.

Ryan only decelerates when they’re right on top of his garage, drifting into the open door in a move that he absolutely didn’t learn on his own. Ray knows that because he was the one that taught him. Even on their so called ‘limited time’, Ryan doesn’t rush. Ray doesn’t rush either, but it’s a different kind of not rush.

Returning to the apartment mirrors exiting it. Ray walks over the cigarette butt left behind and Ryan utters a quiet ‘watch it’ as if anything’s changed. They stand in the elevator that still smells of lingering smoke and Ryan drops his keys from where he picked them up. There’s a pause between them that’s not quite awkward but hesitant at best.

Ryan makes the first move, knowing that Ray probably won't. The first thing he does is take Ray’s face in his hands and kiss him soft. Ray would be the first to admit, without even being asked, that he did not do a lot of kissing or sex. He doesn’t respond instinctively to the kiss, for a moment doing little more than surveying the foreign skin on his own. Ryan’s skin seems slightly cooler than his, possibly from the wind or maybe just by nature.

There is hesitance where there wouldn’t be if Ray had returned Ryan’s feelings and it tells Ray that Ryan really does see this as just a consolation prize. That’s alright. Ryan’s definitely not making him do anything and it’s certainly not anything he doesn’t want to do. So when Ryan pulls away, likely spurred by Ray’s lack of response, Ray is quick to chase him down.

He kisses Ryan fully and without stall and Ryan meets him with longing. It’s nothing like the few kisses he’s had before; Ryan being calculating and urgent. And a man. With one of Ryan’s hands cupping his fuzzy jaw and the other latched around his waist, Ray feels much smaller than he actually is. He uses that, of course, in his favor.

Ray hooks a leg around Ryan’s thigh, gaining a bit of leverage, and he wraps his arms around Ryan’s neck. The center of gravity between the two of them shifts and Ryan has to adjust his hold to keep them upright. They only part when breath is needed and Ray understands why. He finds it difficult to want to stop, Ryan’s mouth warm and welcoming.

“Bedroom?” Ryan exhales.

“Is that a question or-?” Ray answers. Ryan grins. Lips meet again, the sudden crave for physical affection unrelenting even as Ray unattaches himself so they can make for the bedroom. He doesn’t hesitate to pull his shirt off as he goes, Ryan right on his heels, hurriedly pulling his leather coat off.

It was two in the morning the day before another heist that would surely go wrong and here Ray was climbing into bed with one of his fellow crew members after being informed of lingering romantic feelings. Everything was right in the universe. If the universe was a never ending mass of unpredictable and unorganized chaos that balanced upon thousands of unrelated strings that are cause and effect.

Yeah. Ray might have had a bit of a delayed response to this situation. Regret, however, was not part of it.

As Ray is perched on the edge of the bed, Ryan leans over him and kisses his neck fondly. He stops again, though, his hands fitted around Ray’s waist warmly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Ryan murmurs softly. “I mean, are you even-?” He doesn't need to continue.

“What, am I even gay?” Ray scoffs back, leaning his head away minutely to expose his throat a little more for Ryan. He reaches up to take a hold of Ryan’s shoulders, pulling him down to lean further onto the lush bed. He doesn't see why that matters, he knows for a fact Ryan isn't gay. Wow, it's too bad there's only two sexualities because they fit into neither of them. “‘S’it matter? What do you need me to do? Ask for it? Please Ryan, I want your thick cock-”

“Okay,” Ryan cuts him off briskly. “Point received. I was just making sure.” It’s not unappreciated, but it’s also not necessary. Most things Ryan did were extremely unnecessary, thinking about it.

“Yeah, could we get to the banging?” Ray questions, moving his hands up the back of Ryan’s neck and brushing them through the wind whipped strands of his hair. For a moment, Ryan looks a tad uncertain but instead he lets out a huff of a laugh and nods.

“Your wish is my command,” he replies.

“See, now that made it weird,” Ray assures him, laying back on the bed as Ryan gestures him down. It’s not difficult to tell where he’ll have bruises tomorrow, Ryan's mouth latching onto spots of skin low on Ray’s collar and across his shoulders. All where they’ll be easily hidden, of course. Ray does not belong to him. Short nails rake down Ryan’s back, sending goosebumps across his skin and causing him to work on unbuttoning the fasen of Ray’s pants a little quicker, steadily keeping his balance against the edge of the bed.

Ryan lifts Ray by his hips a little, hoisting him further onto the bed and urging a small, dissatisfied noise from him. It melts away almost immediately into a heated exhale when Ryan palms his dick, supplying some much needed friction. Ray grabs a handful of Ryan’s shirt with both hands and helps pull it off. It’s dropped among the bedclothes without any thought and Ryan leans in for another open mouthed kiss that Ray arches into.

“Fuck,” Ryan murmurs, mouth pressed along the curve of Ray’s scratchy jaw and Ray leans into each kiss, fingers clutching and unclenching the back of Ryan’s neck. He pretends not to hear the things whispered into his neck and collar as Ryan simply takes in the feel of his body. Ray allows him that, allows him the slow exploration Ryan's fingers make across his skin and the supposedly inaudible ‘stunning’ and ‘incredible’ and et cetera.

Of course Ryan would be one of those guys. It's nice though, Ryan's soft touches over scars and birthmarks and moles. He'd probably spend all night like this if it weren't their last. Ray finds the cliche gross but unfortunately accurate.

They don't have all night and Ryan finally runs his hands along the waistband of Ray's pants and boxers to pull them off. Ray lifts his butt to ease out of them and Ryan steps away from the bed in the same movement. He leaves Ray's jeans on the floor before making for the side table. Ray pulls himself up onto the middle of the bed, ignoring the exposed feeling he gets when Ryan glances at him longingly. He strokes his cock as he waits.

"Uh, do you-" Ryan begins without the knowledge of how to end such a question. He fetches a bottle of lube, half empty, and a condom from the drawer.

"Ryan," Ray answers with some impatience. "Just fuck me, dude. Or let me fuck you. I don't give a fuck." This urges a small, rumbly laugh from Ryan. He climbs back onto the bed, having toed off his boots sometime while Ray wasn't watching but not his jeans.

"I'd rather do the fucking this time," Ryan assures, snapping open the bottle. Ray snorts.

"'This time'," he echos and maybe, for a moment, they both forget that this time isn’t the only time. Ryan kisses him fondly and Ray reaches out to grasp his arm lightly. A shudder curls down Ray’s body as Ryan coats his fingers with the lubrication. He rubs them between Ray’s legs, earning a sharp exhale when Ryan presses a finger against his anus. Ray has never been a very vocal person and that doesn’t change now, but if it bothers Ryan he doesn’t mention it.

It’s definitely different having someone else’s fingers stretching him and Ryan being unaware of the right places to touch him is frustrating at the very least. Ray moves his hips to give him a hint, hand clutched around the base of Ryan's neck. Things downgrade fairly quickly to Ray fucking himself on Ryan's fingers.

The groan Ryan makes, low and raspy, and it's following '/ _fuck_ ' causes Ray's breath to hitch in his throat. Ryan moves, fingers slipping out and leaving Ray disappointed. He shifts onto the bed, drawing Ray's legs over his thighs and running his hands over Ray's hips. One of Ryan's slick hands rub his cock and Ray arches into the touch gladly. As Ryan reaches for the condom he's left in the sheets, Ray stops him.

"Could you- not?" he murmurs and Ryan pulls back a little without hesitation. "With the condom, I mean. Yolo, right?" Ray adjusts slightly where he lies, only the red tips of his ears indicating any embarrassment. Ryan searches his face, swallowing thickly to soothe his suddenly very dry throat.

"Yeah," Ryan agrees with a calm nod. "Yeah, that's-" He nods again but has nothing more to add. Ray can figure out the rest of his own, like his own psychotic madlib. He swipes his tongue across the inside of his mouth as Ryan coats his own dick with a generous amount of lube.  
It's hard for Ray not to shudder when the head of Ryan's cock nudges against his hole. Ryan isn't exactly averagely endowed and Ray exhales hotly at the new stretch, certainly bigger than the fingers he's had in himself before. Ray tilts his head back a touch, arching his back against the bed as Ryan grips his hips.

"Fuck," Ryan rasps out again, running his hands up to Ray's waist. He sinks into Ray gradually, watching the smaller body wither and twist beneath him. When he bottoms out, cock sheathed completely, Ryan leans over him and kisses his throat warmly.

"Christ Ryan," Ray gasps, clutching at Ryan's knees with both hands. "Shit man, should have done this sooner." Ryan laughs against his skin, the rumble shaking Ray in the best ways.

"You alright, Ray?" Ryan questions gently. Ray nods minutely, rolling his hips tentatively into Ryan's. They both groan at the sensation. As Ryan leans away again, Ray strokes his own cock in one hand, the other curled just above his head. He inhales jaggedly when Ryan slowly pulls out again and lets out a hot 'ah' when his hips snap back.

Ryan's eyes graze Ray's face, following the curve of chest and ribs down to where they connect. Ray could swear that he could feel Ryan's dick through his belly and god, that was arousing. Above all else, Ryan is interested in dedicating everything about Ray to his memory. He watches the way Ray moans airily when he grinds his hips and the way he trembles with each thrust.

When he leans to take his mouth again, Ray wraps an arm around Ryan's neck. It’s slow and tender in a way that Ray is unfamiliar with, Ryan’s cock grinding firmly against all the places that make white spots appear behind Ray’s eyes. Ray can’t find it in himself to urge Ryan on at the moment, however, easily falling into compassionate pleasure. Every heated noise he makes is swallowed up by Ryan’s lips, cigarette flavored tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth and every nook of his mouth.

Ryan rolls his hips and Ray groans appreciatively. This gets the point across. Ray digs his nails into skin when Ryan thrusts into him a little quicker, a little harder. The animalistic noises Ryan makes as he loses himself only spurs Ray’s excitement on further. Ryan’s sweat slicked skin clings to his at every touch.

“Ryan,” Ray exhales in his pleasure.

“Ray,” Ryan groans back. He wraps his fingers around Ray’s erect cock, stroking him in time to each deep thrust. Ray lets out a trail of quiet, breathy ‘fucks’, each one winding down to his inevitable orgasm. Ryan can feel the tremble that wracks Ray’s body when he comes, his warm insides pulsing around him in the wave of pleasure that takes his body. The whimper Ray makes in his bliss is incredible.

Ray’s short nails scrape the back of Ryan’s neck unconsciously when Ryan kisses him hard and he gasps as Ryan comes, slicking his insides with liquid heat. A shaky breath leaves Ryan’s lips and Ray drags his fingers down across his shoulders. Ryan laxes a little, but his weight is more of a comfort than anything else. Ray tilts his head away a bit when Ryan kisses the curve of his jaw softly, warm pants hitting his already hot skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs quietly. Ray digs his fingers into Ryan’s shoulders a bit and releases him just as quick. He doesn’t offer a reply, of course, and Ryan doesn’t expect one. They can stay here for a while, Ray thinks, that’s not against their unsaid rules. He notices a tinge of red at his fingertips as he lies exhausted under Ryan and sure enough, there are a few little bubbles of blood right at the nape of Ryan’s neck, not easily hidden. Not hidden at all, in fact. That’s alright, though.

Ray might not belong to Ryan, but Ryan certainly belongs to him.

\- x -

“Come on Ray!”

Ray can hear his name echo at the back of his head as he winces his eyes open. He’s met with Gavin’s massive fucking face hovering directly above him, too close to really know for sure if it’s Gavin. Like anyone else has a nose that big. Ray exhales roughly against the compression on his chest and follows it up with a pained groan that follows. It feels as though his ribs have crumpled around his lungs like fucking tin foil. To be honest, though, he’s glad that’s all he feels at the moment. He’s aware he’s in much more trouble than that.

“Christ Ray,” Michael breathes out, but it is in relief out of all things. The pressure on his chest lets up a little and Ray adjusts himself just enough to lift his head up. He’s covered in blood that’s not entirely his own, but mostly is, and though many of his wounds have been patched up, he’s bleeding out fast. “I told you it would work.”

“Next time, you play the distraction,” Ray grumbles back, gently lying himself back down. He would like nothing more than to go to sleep right now but doing so would easily render him in a position to not wake up. Besides, there are more important things to tend to than rest at the moment. Carefully, he pushes himself up again, this time going as far as to sit upright. It’s harder than he remembers it being.

“X-Ray wait,” Gavin insists, grasping his arm weakly. “You should stay down. Lindsay’s coming with an ambulance.”

“Just fucking help me up, Gavin,” Ray replies. Gavin does so without anymore argument, pulling one of Ray’s arms over his shoulder to help him stand. Michael hoists him up from the other side. There’s no question as to where he wants to go, and the two of them help Ray limp over to where Ryan has fallen.

Geoff and Jack are already at his side; Jack pushing on Ryan’s chest in rhythm and Geoff tries to get him breathing again. Even from a distance, Geoff looks like he’s been in better condition, singed at the edges and burned pretty badly around his arms and even his face. Obviously more than one phase of Michael’s plan went down perfectly. Ray drops at Ryan’s side, unable to keep himself upright for very long. Ryan certainly looks like he’s had better days, too, riddled with bullet holes and soaked in his own blood much like Ray.

Jack backs off a little when Ray leans over Ryan’s body.

“He only stopped breathing a little bit ago,” Jack informs. “We can still save him if we get him help fast enough.” Ray rests his head on Ryan’s chest gently, listening to the eerie silence beneath his ribs. They were faking hope, of course. That was okay, Ray had real hope. He can hear the ambulance sirens in the distance as he fishes through the pouch of his pants to retrieve two syringes; one empty and one not.

Ray unceremoniously and unapologetically stabs Ryan hard in the base of his neck. There’s a split second where nothing happens and then Ryan is awake all at once. He glances around wildly, choking back desperate breath. Geoff and Jack sigh in relief. Ray relaxes again, more than gladly lying his head on the steadily rising and lowering chest.

“Don’t go to sleep, dickhead. Michael only gave me two of those.”

“Jesus Christ Michael,” Jack huffs, but it’s distantly amused. “What was in that.”

“Eh, you know, bit of this ‘n that,” Michael replies with a cocky smirk and a vague shrug. Ray is really only glad that he wasn’t wrong about trusting his crew with his life. They never had time, not really, but hell if they wouldn’t take every ounce of it they could get their hands on.

“I would be upset,” Ryan says between pained breathes. “But this was a really good plan. Congratulations. Please take me to a hospital.”

“Lindsay’s on her way,” Jack repeats. “Just hang tight.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s not forget who the real winner is here,” Geoff states plainly. “Me. You all owe me twenty bucks. I told you they’d bang.”

“If I die, stay away from my funeral.” 


End file.
